Respect my Boundaries
by Oddbeliever
Summary: It was simple. One plus one equals two "b" comes after "a" etc. Also simple, when a bully is threatening you or making you feel uncomfortable or bad, you have to tell someone. In theory it is simple, real life not so much.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Hola! Welcome to chapter one of my hopefully angst filled story. It's my first multi chapter fic and first time writing for the BTR fandom. I love all the boys but Logan is my favorite and well conbined with FCMD… I feel really bad for that nerdy cutie…! Well here we go!**

**Disclaimer: Pitifully I barely own my snoopy pajamas; never mind something of amazing worth! **

It was simple. One plus one equals two "b" comes after "a" etc. Also simple, when a bully is threatening you or making you feel uncomfortable or bad, you have to tell someone. In theory it is simple, real life not so much.

Small and slight are NOT words a teenage boy wants as his descriptions. 14-year-old Logan Mitchell couldn't agree more. He frowned at his practically albino features, attempting to cover a bruising black eye; he flicked his raven hair into his eyes. It didn't work his hair was spiky and went up not down. Luminescent ebony brown eyes showed off his nervous demeanor. Combined with his slouched posture, and jumpy self he looked petrified. And worst of all his friends would notice… And he would have to lie.

Logan tried forcing optimistic thoughts into his head… It almost worked! Until he spotted his elderly, very wrinkled neighbor drop her hose, scream run into her house and come out with packs of ice and a first aid kit. Then she took off again reappearing with a phone and blankets? She hobbled over with some severely creepy old lady on a mission speed and launched herself at him. Logan's body protested the severe weight of his now confirmed "sweetheart" neighbor. His bruises throbbed and cuts burned.

He was so thankful he had taken up hockey and rolled in a fashion that saved him from her coddling. By now he could distantly hear other concerned neighbors waking up. It was time to rush to school. And that's what he did, well actually he also crashed into the sidewalk while he ran but that's beside the point.

Creeping quietly through the now dormant halls of a cruel pecking order Logan reached his media studies class before everyone else. Logan slunk over to his seat and cautiously scanned the area for any teachers. Once sure he was alone Logan allowed himself a moment of rest. A moment where his head made contact with the desk and lulled his worn beaten body into a healing doze. He promised himself it would only be a minute. But as we know its harder to keep a promise then it is to make one.

**A/N: That my friends was an incredibly awful short prologue. BTW we are going to have a few chapters build up to this excuse for an update. I warn you now I don't know how well I'd be able to update but I swear to finish this story no matter what. Also I have a question is it okay to have atrocious grammar in an A/N?**


	2. Houdini Box

Three forms resided in the unfortunately teensy bedroom. One tall, lean form rested upon a chair, which had recently been a pedestal for magazines. If you followed the dirt and grime of a failed worm project you'd quickly reach the second. There the shorter slightly stouter figure stood eagerly nodding his oddly thick and round head… Finally standing stiffly and slightly harshly by the battered cabinets was a silhouette of medium size and stouter. A constant tapping noise approached from his foot. They were still waiting.

Huffing and gasping a small, bent over frame tore on practiced legs through the soft cushioning grass. Brown eyes sung of panic as bright red and blue lights echoed in the background. The late evening had thick black clouds suffocating the sky and threatening a punishment of rain. Cloaked in a simple washed down black coat the person ran. A quick lift of the hood confirmed that a boy or young man was the culprit. His visible features were albino pale, and made his spiked up mop of black hair very noticeable. An odd wheezing sound went soaring out of his lungs, a thin vapor clouding the area in front of his mouth. His scribbled upon converse hit the ground in an odd way possibly cause a sprain. Nonetheless the hoodlum fell into an ally. For a small while the dark imposing ally was silent. Then with an obviously painful limp out strode Logan Mitchell.

Logan ignored all the open mouthed stares. He limped past the gaping eyes of Jo. He looked away from the shocked face of Sasha. He completely ignored the concerned look of Camille. He boarded the elevator.

The shock of the room took too long to fade away. Once everyone recovered they rushed towards the stairs. They had anticipated on over taking the elevator on its way to the floor, which housed 2J. They certainly beat the elevator. Yet the elevator opened empty. Logan like the misty dew on the frost bitten windows had vanished.

The elevators had closed then opened like any other day on any other floor but for once they became the Houdini box. A person strolled in and never came out. For most of the people at the Palmwoods this was fine. This was expected form the aspiring teens. Except this was Logan Mitchell. And in a way he never came out again. At least not the same as when he went in.

From behind the shadows came a hooded figure, silently walking down the empty lobby. He pushed on the door and stepped out into the thick premonition of rain. Walking down the street he stopped at a small burgundy colored house. Opening the door he walked in. While closing it his face was visible. Logan's face stood blurred by the sudden rainfall. Logan stood with a bruising cheek, a black eye and swollen eyelids. He had definitely been crying.

The police had received an odd phone call. It had come from 347 Wolde Rd. It didn't give much information except mentioning an adolescent showing bad behavior. The voice had been high and pitchy; probably female.

Officer Gregory looked with disgust at the remains of what had once been cocaine. It was littered across the ground. There were even obvious trails. He was ready to charge after the culprit. That is until the detective came. Along with a sobbing lady, a stunned girl and a set of three shell shocked teenage boys.

"I believe this crime is connected to a disappearance." The detective said in a hushed but disappointed tone. "The disappearance of Logan Mitchell age 16.


End file.
